Thursday, June 26, 2003

Eleven Reasons Why You Have To Be Insane To Date Me

I’ve done some self-reflecting this morning after a bit of an early-AM tiff with my girlfriend and here’s what I came up with.

I have a fucked up schedule. It’s true, after working night jobs for the last decade or so I’ve gotten in the habit of being functional during the day while still going out at night. This becomes problematic when dating a “day” person.

I love music. Really love it. Really really love it to a somewhat scary obsessive degree. This ties into the previous problem as well when you consider that most of my time “out” is spent at concerts or interacting with bands.

I’m messy. I wash my dishes promptly because I have this thing about bugs but everything else is a free for all. I have thousand of CDs, tapes and albums, hundred of books and lots of clothes. Strangely enough I know where everything is and get really confused and flustered whenever anyone makes an attempt to “tidy it up” for me.

My dog get lots of love. I didn’t realize just how much love Betty the Beagle gets until Photo-gal got a bit peeved with me for coming home one day, playing with Betty and lavishing attention on her while completely forgetting to say hi to Photo-gal herself. Big mistake.

I have a major wandering eye. Face it, I was single a long time in a scene where guys can be boys and I’ve gotten in the habit of “checking out” every woman in the room. I feel kinda piggish doing it but it’s become a habit. Allow me too stress though that a wandering eye in no way translates to other parts of my anatomy wandering as well!

I forget things. I’ll remember an anniversary but forget to call an electrician to fix the bathroom light. For over a year.

I drink too much.

I drink waaay too much sometimes.

I’m a picky eater. A roommate of mine once commented that my bland appetites must have developed to counter-balance my rather colorful personality. I’ve gotten to the point to where I can find something edible at almost any restaurant but the fact that I like my burgers plain and please hold the hummus drives some people bonkers.

I’ve dated my fair share of women. I’ve flirted with a lot more. This becomes a bit difficult if my current mate is the jealous type. If I’m out I’m going to run into a girl I’ve dated or kissed or collected a phone number from…and then I’m going to feel doubly bad because as number eleven states…

I’m terrible at remembering names. Really awful. Like so bad that I often forget the name of the person I’ve just been introduced to. There’s one girl that allowed me to sleep on her couch years ago that I still see every few weeks and I still can’t remember her name.

Tuesday, June 24, 2003

Smashing puny humans since the '60s

So yeah I saw The Hulk this weekend with much trepidation since pretty much every reviewer was trashing the hell out of the movie. They said it was slow, ponderous, filled with pseudo-philosophical overtones and the protagonist looked like a great big Gumby doll. They complained the movie was not at all the sort of summer popcorn fare that the hype had built the movie up to be. They generally whined and complained and gave the film a big ol' thumbs-down.

Well, they were right about a few things. The movie is certainly not a completely empty-headed popcorn-fueled summer superhero film and the pace can occasionally be glacially slow.

And there's nothing wrong with either of those points even though most critics seem to think there is. I personally tend to be snobbish in my movie taste and sneer at the rest of the summer fare alongside Slate and Peter Travers and The New Yorker to name a few. This time though I think the critics both expected too much and too little from Ang Lee. Looking at Lee's past few films the quiet meditative tone of the majority of the film is completely keeping within his style and even when the battle sequences explode with fury there is still a balletic lightness to the movement.

The story is actually better than the origin in the comics -- which is rare in superhero movies -- and the back story involving Bruce Banner's dad adds a weight and gravitas lacking from the original comics. (Note that I source the originals and not the later John Byrne or Erik Larson runs...though god save me for having THAT sort of knowledge at my fingertips!)

Overall the movie I saw had pretty damn good CG (check out Nick Nolte rubbing The Hulk's face), a more than adequate story and a pretty satisfactory plot arc that ended conclusively yet openly in a way I found quite adequate.

A main function of criticism though is not to state whether something is intrinsically "good" or "bad" and sometimes I think critics -- myself included at times -- forget this. So I will say that The Hulk is successful in what it attempts to accomplish and doesn't seem to be overly swayed by marketing expectations or worries of ham-fisted blows by overly sensitive critical minds.

Friday, June 20, 2003

It's a quieter than usual day here at the office. I've been busy but most people around me seem more interested in who is winning the Cubs VS Sox game going on today. This made me notice just how out of the social loop I can be simply because I don't really follow sports at all. For some reason I've never been able to foster the unconditional love for all things sporty that applies to about 98% of the population. It's not like I haven't tried and in my life I've played just about every sport known to man except rugby and polo. My parent's garage is still fully stocked with my old lacrosse sticks, football pads, fielder's mitts, soccer balls and so on and so on...I just never caught the bug. I guess I do still enjoy playing sports it's just that I have no interest in what's going on in professional sports. It just seems silly to me.

So because of that I'm lacking in some of the basic conversational cues available to most other people. Small talk is so much easier when you can fill the spaces with scores or how so and so fucked up a major play in yesterday's game and I'm really beginning to believe that a great deal of interpersonal relationships -- especially in the professional world -- are fully propped up with this shared sporting dialogue available to people.

I suppose that's why I dove so deeply into music and its attending social/professional scene. It's a much smaller cross-section of people but we rely on very similar verbal cues and shorthand when it comes to our own discussions only instead of Roger Clemens we're discussing Thrill Jockey or Flower Booking or the band last night at The Double Door. Yeah, that's it...

Wednesday, June 18, 2003

Sorry about the lack of writing but...

...heck I've been busy!

I'm gearing up for the Pearl Jam show at The United Center here in Chicago tonight. I've discovered one of the perks of having a day job is having access to skybox tickets to shows I wouldn't usually go to. I've seen Pearl Jam a number of times and truly do believe they are one of the best live bands around but I haven't actually bought a ticket for their last couple of tours and I was going to let this one pass. I certainly wouldn't turn down a free ticket though and when that ticket comes along with a privately catered skybox seat I think it's pretty safe to say I consider that a pretty sweet deal. Sa-weeet!

I do have a point to this though and it centers on how much I admire Pearl Jam for trying to operate outside of the recording industry and actually cater to their fans when they can. It is generally known that they have parted ways with their major label since their contract is up and they are searching for a way to do business outside the "machine." What isn't generally known is that they are once again releasing all of their concerts in CD form to fans that order them on-line. A new twist lies within the option to also download unmastered MP3s off the web a few hours after each show. How cool is that?

Basically you can relive your concert experience directly after the concert itself and then a few days later a nice glossy and mastered CD set shows up at your doorstep!

I wish more bands would do this...I'm a live recording junkie and this itches my fix in just the right place.

I'll let y'all know how the actual implementation of this innovative offer goes...I'm excited by the concept but am fully cognizant of the fact that the execution may be riddled with flaws...

My friend Darcell sent me a the following definitions (I don't know who the original author is or I would give credit where credit is due) and I find 'em kinda funny. A little true too. Well, a lot true. I do tend to say "sammich" from time to time...

3. Sammich. Chicagoese for sandwich. When made with sausage, it's a sassage
sammich; with shredded beef, it's an Italian beef sammich, a local delicacy
consisting of piles of spicy meat in a perilously soggy bun.

4. Da. The definite article is a key part of Chicago speech, as in "da tree
bears" or "da Mare"-the latter denoting, for as long as he wants it to,
Richard M. Daley, or Richie, as he's often known.

5. Jewels. Not family heirlooms or a tender body region, but a popular
>appellation for one of the region's dominant grocery chains, to wit, "I'm
goin' to da Jewels to pick up some sassage." As in most Chicago
pluralizations, the "S" is pronounced with a hissing sound, rather than the
usual "Z" sound of American pluralization.

7.Tree. The number between two and four. "We were lucky dat we only got tree
inches of snow da udder night"

8. Prairie. A vacant lot, especially one on which weeds are growing.

9. Over by dere. i.e. "over by there," a prolix way of emphasizing a site
presumed familiar to the listener. As in, "I got the sassage at da Jewels
down on Kedzie, over by dere.'

10. KaminskiPark. Perhaps the high concentration of ethnic Poles makes
people want the White Sox to be playing in this mythical ballpark, rather
than in their true home, Comiskey Park.

11. Frunchroom as in, "Getottada frunchroom wit dose muddy shoes." It's not
the "parlor." It's not the "living room." In the land of the bungalow, it's
the "frunchroom," a named derived, linguists believe, from "front room."

12.Use. Not the verb but the plural pronoun "you". "Where's use goin'?"

13. Downtown. Anywhere south of the zoo and north of Soldier Field near the
lake.

14. BoysTown: A section on Halsted Ave., between Belmont and Addison, which
is lined with gay bars on the west and east sides of the street. "Didn't I
see uze in Boystown in front of da Manhole?"

Wednesday, June 11, 2003

Yin and Yang

Prom was a blast last night and I'd like to congratulate our King and Queen - Jenny Evil and Eric Anderson...I always wanted to see the stoner/metalhead share the crown with the cheerleader even if I'm pretty sure it's Satan that Jenny is cheering on...

Due to last night's festivities I don't really feel like writing much so here's two fun things for you to peruse:

Monday, June 09, 2003

Another looooong weekend...

Luckily I came to my senses and stayed in last night and got to bed pretty early. Let's just say I saw lots of good rock and/or roll this weekend (Flaming Lips, Viloent Femmes, Electric Six, Bitch Be Cool, Dig For Fire, The Artist Formally Known As Vince, Giant Step, Air This Side Of Caution and more!) and got spend some quality time with my little brother.

All in all not bad at all!

Now, if you please, go on over to my latest Lost In Guyville column for rules to utilize when discussing the new Radiohead album.

Thursday, June 05, 2003

Just thought I'd share that with you and save you the same pain my tongue is going through this morning as I gulp my tainted beverage. Lord knows I'm not going to throw the remainder down the drain -- though I sincerely wish I could -- because I view a waste of coffee much the same way I view the waste of alcohol...somewhere along the lines of a mortal sin.

I have owned a car before. Let me make that clear before I go into this rant. I have commuted before. I understand rush hour sucks. I understand no one likes driving to or from work. I know all these things.

I also know that the people commuting now are markedly worse than they were just four or five years ago.

Maybe it's the Internet and the driving need for instant satisfaction without actually having to do anything to really get from Point A to Point B. Maybe people have just gotten uglier as their brains are slowly cooked by solar rays as the ozone shrinks day by day. Maybe I've just gotten older and more intolerant. Maybe that's it.

Or maybe, just maybe, people need to get off their goddamned cell phones while they're driving home in the evening. You know, there is very little that is so important that you need to fumble around for your phone, dial it while trying to watch the road and then gab ceaselessly about things like what you did at work today (which was the same thing you did yesterday) or what time you're going to get home (six-thirty - click...see that was easy)

I am against helmet laws. I am against the public smoking ban in places like New York and California. But I am for the seatbelt law and I would be so for a ban on drivers talking on the cell phone. Hell, if such a law came into being I'd pull over to the side of the road, park on the shoulder, whip out my cell phone and start dialing the State Troopers with the license plate of every moron swerving all over the road and starting and stopping in unexpected bursts because they're too busy yakking away in an attempt to make themselves feel important and add meaning to their impotent little lives.

While I'm at it, what ever happened to people actually letting you change lanes when you flip on your turn signal? Now it seems that if the person in the lane you want to enter - assuming they're not preoccupied with their cell phone - will actually accelerate even if they are half a mile back! It's as if no one wants anyone to be "in front of them." I know it is better to be a leader than a follower but I really think drivers with their foot pounding the gas are kind of missing the point of that little maxim.

By the way, "maxim" was a word before it was a stupid magazine.

See, this whole driving thing has got me so worked up I'm now ranting into tangents! So I’m going to just step back, cool off and get a cup of coffee.

Then I'm going outside and surrounding my car in twenty-four layers of bubble wrap to protect me on the bumper-car ride home we Chicagoans call "commuting."

Tuesday, June 03, 2003

Space is the place.

Done Waiting done scooped me on this one…which is shocking since Blur is one of my favorite bands of all time. Drummer Dave Rowntree has long been involved with the UK space program and its Mars lander named Beagle 2 (which shouldn’t be that surprising if one remembers one of the b-sides of 13 being title, ahem, Beagle 2.)